


All the Galaxy's a Stage

by thewightknight



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Canon Divergence, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Jedi Mind Trick, M/M, Mind Games, Things are not what they seem, ben has a secret, not really a strip club au, senator organa moonlights as a stripper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-04 23:19:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6679963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewightknight/pseuds/thewightknight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>General Hux has been sent to Republic territory to sound out potential allies and raise funds.  He was specifically ordered to make contact with Senator Ben Organa, but the senator is nowhere to be found.  And then one evening, Hux receives an invitation from Organa to meet him in a surprising place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Galaxy's a Stage

**Author's Note:**

> This all happened because [my dash did a thing](http://thewightknight.tumblr.com/post/142819129028/tumblr-slays-it-yet-again).
> 
> The idea started out as a silly drabble, but then it took a darker turn."

“This can’t be the place.” Hux took in the scene and bit back a sneer. It was a cut above most, but no amount of fancy lighting and lush fabrics could disguise that the address on the back of the card that had been pressed into his hand earlier that evening belonged to a strip club.

“This is the correct address ….” The way Phasma trailed off it was obvious she’d almost added a “General” onto the end of her sentence. He was posing as a businessman while in Republic territory, with Mikata as his secretary and Phasma as their bodyguard, and while she threw herself into the role with gusto it took extra effort on her part to disregard military protocol.

“So the illusive Senator Organa avoids us for over a week, and then invites us here? Curious.” Hux considered leaving, but the one firm order he had been given was to make contact with this particular senator. Although he’d had some success so far at greasing palms and securing lucrative trade agreements he didn’t want to return with this requirement unfulfilled.

They were interrupted by an officious voice.

“Can I help you gentlebeings?” The voice managed to convey that the speaker thought they were beyond any and all help. Hux turned and yes, the speaker was just as odious as it sounded. It was of no alien race Hux recognized, but its body language was still clear. With a shrug Hux presented the card and the chit that had accompanied it. The change was astounding. The sneer was replaced for a split second with a look of total shock, followed by an unctuous grin and with a snap of its fingers each of them had a stunning creature hanging on either arm in seconds. They were escorted to a private booth on an upper level with a first-rate view of the stage below and they’d barely taken their seats when several trays filled with elegant decanters appeared. They were treated to a flowery description of the potent beverages each contained, and their escorts poured for each of them. 

“The show will begin shortly, good gentlebeings. If you require anything, just ring.” It gestured to a pull cord by the door, bowed, and with another snap of his fingers the escorts filed out. It bowed to each of them and left, closing the door behind it.

Hux allowed himself a sip, savoring the complexities of the brandy as he let it trickle down his throat. The booth was shadowed, and it was positioned in such a way that there was no clear line of sight from any of the other balconies. “Why did the senator ask to meet us here, I wonder?” he mused as he took another drink.

“I guess we’ll find out.” Phasma settled into one of the chairs with a tumblr in hand, making appreciative noises as she sipped. Mikata settled gingerly into another, staring into his glass as if he expected something to jump out of it.

There was no announcement when the show began, just a dimming of the general lights and a gradual increase in the volume of the music. The entertainment was, well, nice enough, Hux guessed, if you liked that kind of thing. The dancers were perfect physical specimens for their races, fit and flexible. Phasma and Mikata seemed both to be appreciating them, so the evening wouldn’t be a total loss if Organa never appeared. 

He was considering if it was advisable to throw caution to the wind and start heavily imbibing when a human male stepped out from behind one of the stage curtains. He was tall, exceptionally so, and so pale of skin he glowed in the stage lights. His hair and face were covered with a veil and he was otherwise clad only in two long swathes of black fabric, fastened at his shoulders and nowhere else. 

Hux failed to come up with an appropriate word to describe how he moved across stage as the lights all focused on him. “Walked” was too plebian, “strutted” too flagrant, “slunk” too risqué. Flowed. Yes, that was best. The pieces of fabric clung to his front and fluttered out behind him. There must be air jets, or some other stage effects, because his simple movements shouldn’t be causing the fabric to behave as it did. Whatever was causing it, it served to give the audience the impression he was wearing nothing below the neck but these two lengths of thin cloth. It was artfully done, though. Nothing was exposed for more than a second or two, and only along the man’s sides and back. The music was minimal, a strong drum line, a heartbeat rhythm, with a wild air of strings and winds floating above, and as the dance progressed the tempo picked up and Hux found his heartbeat speeding up in response.

He tried to be clinical about the man’s performance, distancing himself from how his body was beginning to react. The dancer was impossibly broad through the shoulders. His upper arms were … no, he couldn’t think about how they looked as big around as one of his thighs, and definitely shouldn’t contemplate about how easily just one of those arms could wrap around his waist and pick him up. His legs … No, he wasn’t going to fall into the trap of finding an adjective for those legs, either. The fabric at least left his torso a mystery as it blended in with the dark curtains but that made it somehow even worse, leaving it up to the imagination of the viewer. One particularly strong jet of air left nothing to wonder about the shapeliness of his backside, however, and confirmed that the dancer was indeed wearing absolutely nothing under the thin cloth.

Every movement was slow and deliberate and highlighted the man’s impressive musculature and Hux caught himself tugging at the collar of his coat and shifting in his chair as his dance continued. It seemed like the whole performance was directed at him, which was just a performers’ trick, he knew, but it didn’t stop the flush that spread through him at the oblique glances that implied certain illicit flashes of skin were for his eyes alone. 

In desperation Hux forced himself to concentrate on what he could see of the man’s face and that did serve to distract him, because as soon as he focused on the eyes that peered out from above the veil he realized he recognized them. He’d seen them in countless holos and stills as he’d studied in preparation for this trip, learning everything about the man he’d been instructed to cultivate. Even without the makeup that normally accented them, even with the veil covering hair and face he was certain, absolutely and without doubt, that the man dancing on the stage below him was none other than Senator Ben Organa. All this registered in the space of a breath, and he’d swear that Organa winked at him as he came to this realization. 

None of the previous acts had been more than two minutes in length, and surely this one was no exception, but it seemed to go on for an eternity even past when he reached his moment of realization. He breathed a sigh of relief when the stage lights faded and Organa disappeared behind the curtains. It was obvious neither Phasma or Mikata had made the same connection he’d reached but Phasma was eyeing him with a knowing gleam in her eyes as rose to refresh his drink. A surreptitious glance downward confirmed that the stiff fabric of his formal tunic didn’t quite conceal the bulge in his trousers and he grimaced. He was debating whether to share his observations with his subordinates when the door behind them opened and the senator glided into their box.

"I hope you are enjoying the show?" he asked as the doors closed behind him.

Organa hadn’t bothered to put anything over his stage costume and the cloth molded to his body as he moved. Hux caught his eyes wandering and dragged them up to meet Organa’s. His reaction hadn’t gone unnoticed, and he felt a spike in his pulse at the open invitation in Organa’s return gaze. 

Organa turned to pour himself a drink and Hux found himself the recipient of another alluring glimpse of pale skin. There were no random gusts of air here in their box, so why was the fabric he wore still behaving as it did? It left him feeling he was losing ground for himself in whatever game was being played, so he went on the offensive.

“Senator Organa. Interesting venue you’ve picked for our meeting.” He heard Mikata’s shocked intake of breath and the creak of the chair as Phasma shifted in her seat.

Organa dismissed their reaction with a wave of his hand. “Meetings and social functions have their places, but sometimes I prefer to conduct business in more … intimate settings. General.” With the huskiness of his voice, dripping with innuendo, his use of Hux’s rank almost went unnoticed, but when it registered Hux stiffened. This changed the senator’s choice of meeting places from mystifying to worrying. It would be scandalous but not reasonable if they disappeared after being seen entering an establishment like this. He shifted his stance, wondering how the senator had found them out and how many Republic guards might be standing outside the box. 

A surreptitious hand motion put Mikata and Phasma on alert. When they rose, the senator shook his head.

“There is no cause for alarm.” There was a measured cadence to his words, a lack of passion to them that contrasted with his earlier tone of voice.

“There is no cause for alarm,” Phasma and Mikata repeated, their tone wooden, as if they were in a trance. Hux felt a ripple of something along the edges of his awareness but whatever Organa was doing wasn’t directed at him. The man’s attention was focused on the other two, and he continued speaking.

“I will speak with the general alone.”

“You will speak with the general alone.”

“You will see that we are not disturbed.”

“We will see that you are not disturbed.” With that, they turned as one and filed out of the box, closing the door behind them. Organa had focused on them and Hux took attention of his distraction. His clothing hadn’t been designed with minimizing an inconvenient erection in mind, but it did allow for the concealment of a small blaster. He didn’t know what Organa’s game was, but he felt better with the smooth metal in hand. He was treated to a raised eyebrow when the senator turned back to him. 

“No need for that, now.” 

Whatever he’d done to Mikata and Phasma, Hux was being spared, for the moment at least, because he’d felt no compulsion at the senator’s words to put the blaster away.

“What the kriff was that?” Hux jerked his head towards the door. “One of your Jedi tricks?” That hadn’t been in the official files but it was common knowledge, the legacy he’d inherited from his grandfather and mother. The Republic tended to dismiss such things as rumor and legend but the First Order didn’t have that luxury. The Supreme Leader had made sure of it, he and his Knights of Ren. Pretending the Force didn’t exist and stepping out of line was a sure route to disaster, and death if you were lucky. 

“But General, I’m not a Jedi. Everyone knows this. I’m barely able to access the Force. So untalented, in fact, that I was forced to leave my uncle’s school.” Organa was all wide eyed innocence. It didn’t fool Hux. He’d perfected such a look himself in his first year at the Academy.

“Yes, and such convenient timing there, your leaving just before all the trainees were massacred.”

“That was a tragedy. So much death. So much waste.” The sincerity in his voice sounded real but there was something about his reaction that didn’t strike true. Hux had a feeling he was being allowed to see this, though, that the senator had let his perfect mask slip just for him. Why he’d do such a thing, Hux had no idea. Yet. He was also sure that pointing a blaster at him was pointless but that this too was being allowed for some reason. Organa was trying to give him a false sense of security, an illusion of control. He’d just have to figure out why.

He edged around the circumference of the booth until he reached his chair and sat, gesturing with the blaster for Organa to do the same. He was surprised when instead of settling into one of the other seats Organa knelt on the floor in front of him. As he settled downwards the front panel of his … robe? gown? hung in place for a split second before falling down around him, giving Hux an unimpeded view of his torso and other, lower portions of his anatomy. He pulled his attention back upwards but Organa had caught his momentary distraction. He got an impression of amusement but the eyes gave him nothing, and with Organa’s face covered by the veil Hux had nothing else to go on. 

“Take that damned thing off,” he ordered. An eyebrow shot up, and with a shrug Organa reached up to one of the fastenings at his shoulder. Kriffing hell. The man had no shame.

“Not that. The veil.”

“Are you sure about that, General?” 

Hux rolled his eyes and bit back a sigh. Damn politicians and their damned games. He’d fended off several advances already, hints of an exchange of favors for favors, and he found himself growing angry at this blatant attempt to play him. Because that’s all this had to be, he was sure. Organa wanted something from him and this was all some grand act. Why he’d decided this was the best way to achieve his ends, Hux didn’t know, but the senator was going to find himself in for a disappointing evening. There’d be a cold shower at the end of it for him, because the man was perfection, everything he could ever hope for in a partner, but even with his orders he’d be damned if he’d whore himself out for anyone or anything.

“The veil, if you please?”

The senator’s face was bare of his usual layers of cosmetics, except for just a touch of color to his lips and the black smudged around his eyes and Hux knew only a few years separated them but he looked shockingly young. There was no youthful innocence in those eyes, though. Nothing innocent at all. The look that the senator gave him was full of knowing and promise, a heavy lidded gaze that reignited the heat he’d sparked earlier.

Hux caught himself clearing his throat and resisted the urge to shift in his chair. Trying to deflect the situation, he asked, “What is the point of all this, Senator?” He took in their surroundings with a wave of his blaster.

Hux would have sworn that Organa hadn’t moved, but the distance between them seemed to be less then when he’d first knelt. Organa took a sip from his own glass and a drop of the brandy trickled down the side of his mouth. He caught with a thumb, licking it clean, arranging his hands in his lap afterwards, cradling the tumblr between them. It looked tiny in his grasp, peeking out between his laced fingers. The gesture pressed his garment against him, molding it to his chest, and Hux could see his nipples poking through the fabric. Despite his earlier resolve his gaze had wandered again, dammit. 

“I thought I’d already explained that. Everyone is always on their best behavior at more formal affairs. I find it more advantageous to take someone’s measure in more private settings.” He shifted, baring more of a thigh. The man was determined, he’d give him that.

“And what makes you think I’m worth such attention?” 

“General Brannon Sheev Hux of the First Order, how could you not be?”

Hux had let the blaster fall as they bantered, but at that he pointed it square between the Senator’s eyes again.

“That’s not my name.”

“Oh, please, Hux. Let’s dispense with the charade.” Organa took another drink, and had he gotten even closer?

Somehow he’d been found out, but there was no way Organa could have known what he’d just spoken. “This is no game. And I don’t have a middle name.”

“Nowhere in official records, no. But that is what your father bestowed on you at your birth, is it not? Your family does have grand aspirations. Not enough to have created a whole new generation of Stormtroopers or developed plans for a superweapon that will make the Death Star look like a children’s bauble. No, you look to follow in your great-grandfather’s footsteps.” And here he was now, kneeling directly between Hux’s knees, pushing the blaster aside with a finger. “As I would in my grandfather’s.” Hux realized he’d stopped breathing. There was no way the senator could have known any of this unless they had a spy in their ranks and the chances of him getting out of this situation alive seemed to be getting slimmer and slimmer with each word spoken.

Organa sensed his disturbance and shook his head. “Now, General, there’s no cause for concern. We have a friend in common, that is all. One who values you and wishes for you to attain the fullest of your potential.” Hux let the breath he’d been holding out in a shuddering gasp as Organa leaned forward, placing his drink on the table next to Hux’s chair and letting his hands come to rest on Hux’s thighs. “They worked well together, Palpatine and Vader. As we might, too. It’s something we should explore.” 

A finger traced the seam in his pants, and Hux’s erection, which had subsided during their interchange, sprang to live once more. When Organa leaned in Hux turned his face at the last instant so Organa’s lips met his jaw instead of his mouth. The senator was undeterred by this rejection, bestowing a series of light kisses that began at the corner of Hux’s mouth and traveled along to the base of his jaw as he palmed Hux’s cock. 

Hux bit his lip to suppress a groan as teeth grazed his pulse point but couldn’t rein in his reaction to the touch of Organa’s hand, surging beneath his expert massage. Another hand buried itself in his hair, drawing his head back, a pull that balanced on the thin line between pleasure and pain, as did the attentions of Organa’s teeth. There was a tug at his coat, the fastenings giving way, and then the sensation of fingers trailing down his chest. He could hear his breathing, harsh and ragged, and the soft sounds that Organa made, moans that fed the flames building in his core. Reaching up, his hand met the warmth of flesh and Organa leaned into his touch, the silk of his skin hot under Hux’s palm.

He was losing himself, and there was a part of him screaming in alarm but it was buried under the sensations that were flooding him. He almost gave in, but when he felt the blaster, almost forgotten, begin to slip from his fingers it brought him back to himself. Gathering all his will, he pushed back, hand flat against the senator’s chest, and brought the blaster up to Organa’s temple.

“Enough!” he cried, and suddenly he found himself sitting alone in his chair, pointing the blaster at nothing and Organa was still kneeling several feet in front of him, his position unchanged from when they’d begun this conversation. 

“Interesting.” Organa looked up at him, a speculative gleam in his eye. “The Supreme Leader’s opinion of you seems to be warranted.”

“You …? The Supreme Leader …? How …?” Hux’s brain hadn’t quite caught up yet, hormones still interfering with his thought processes.

“You should know he plays a deep game, and there are many pieces scattered across the board.”

“And you’d be one of them, it seems?” His pulse was beginning to level out and his head began to clear.

Organa inclined his head.

“This was a test, then. But not the only reason I’m here.” 

“No, you are correct. Your mission is still as stated. Acquire allies and gather resources for the First Order, under whatever pretenses you deem necessary. But now, with my assistance, you will be able to approach some with complete honesty.”

“So now that I’m deemed _worthy_ , you’ll assist me?” Organa nodded again. “Tell me why I should trust you, Senator Ben Amidala Organa Solo. You know the right words to say and the right names to use, but that means nothing to me. You’re the child of two heroes of the Rebel Alliance. You were elected King of Naboo at sixteen and now you have been their representative on the Senate for over a decade. Why are you a part of this? This system seems to be working for you. Why would you work to disrupt it?”

Organa laughed, a dry chuckle with little humor in it. “The system is broken beyond repair, General. Even more so than the Galactic Senate which preceded it. More than half my fellow senators are in someone’s pocket, and a good many of them are in several. The inner systems bask in obscene wealth while the rest of the galaxy suffers in poverty. I work for the betterment of all, and for the establishment of an order that will guarantee it. These fools will never work for anything but their own comfort and fortune.” 

As he spoke, Hux could hear the passion in his voice, and he agreed with every word, which was a surprise. He’d never expected to find the ideologies of the First Order shared by someone born to the system he was sworn to overthrow.

“Well, then, it would seem we have common cause.” 

“Indeed. If you will call on me tomorrow, we will begin to make plans.” Organa rose in one fluid movement and this time his garment stayed in place, moving as if it was belted at the waist and weighted at the hem. He had been controlling it with the Force, it seemed. Hux found he wasn’t surprised. The hand had been played, and now the show was over. Organa saluted Hux with his glass and drained it in one smooth motion.

“When your comrades return, they will have no memory of my presence here.” With that, he exited, and shortly after Phasma and Mikata filed back in. Their faces remained blank until they took their seats and then they came to live between one breath and the next, commenting on the current performer as if nothing had happened. They took no notice of Hux’s blaster, even. He stowed it away and picked up his tumblr, draining its contents in a single swallow as well and then rising to pour himself another, filling the glass just short of the brim. His previous urge to overindulge now seemed quite reasonable. Jedi mind tricks weren’t supposed to work on the strong-willed, which Phasma was in spades, but he’d rolled her with no apparent effort, and whatever it was that he’d done to Hux had almost succeeded. For the rest of the evening he vowed not to think of Senator Organa, or what his connection to the Supreme Leader could be, or what their plans for him might entail. He took the bottle with him when he returned to his seat.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come say hi over on [tumblr](http://thewightknight.tumblr.com/).


End file.
